


Cooking at one in the morning

by QueenClavel



Category: Bee and PuppyCat
Genre: 5am, Cooking, Fluff, M/M, baking hours, not proofread., wrote this at like.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenClavel/pseuds/QueenClavel
Summary: Deckard is awake and floating in space. So is an idiot from his school who came along for the ride.-=-Bee and Puppycat fan fic because I had it in my google docs written and its good enough for someone to use so. Enjoy. Cooking Prince and Deckard shippers, go off.
Relationships: Deckard Wizard/Cooking Prince
Kudos: 4





	Cooking at one in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> Cooking Prince is called Damian in this by the way.

Deckard stared out the window of the Wizard house, looking into the void of space. He could see the Earth growing distant at an alarming speed, and yet, the planet wasn’t his home. His home was the island, or more accurately, the ship that once used to be the island. His family was all asleep, which made sense given that it was pretty late, or at least it felt that way. Time was a pretty earth-oriented thing, after all. As he stared out the window, he was unaware of a certain person also up at that hour, who asked a pretty interesting question.

“How come you think we don’t die from lack of air?” Damian, the cooking prince of cooking prince academy asked Deckard, sitting on the counter of the kitchen next to him. “Ah!” Deckard yelped, turning to face the ginger. “Oh, sorry, did I scare you?” he teased, before chuckling, “My own fault really, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”

“How did you get in?” Deckard asked plainly, “I don’t remember you knocking.”

“Oh, the wrestler lady with the twins let me in. Something about how your sister would hate another chef inside? I don’t really remember, it was a few hours ago. You’ve just always seemed to manage to avoid me unless I snuck up on you.”

Deckard stared at him, internally noted to try and talk to Toast about this. He looked at them again, and noticed he was holding a basket of something. It was a bunch of the weird berries from the gardens of the apartment, and he seemed to actually be eating one. “They’re actually pretty good. Like lemons, but sweeter.”

“What do you want? Why did you even stay on the island, don’t you have friends back at the academy? There was no reason to come out here with me.”

“That is simply untrue, Deckard. I said I was going to help you pass your finals. While technically they don’t matter in space, you never know. Maybe we’ll end up having to bake for an alien overlord. Then you’ll be all ‘Oh no, if only I’d listened to Damian’”

“Are you joking? Please tell me your jeking-jekin-joking.” Deckard said, focusing on the word towards the end. Damian chuckled a little, but smiled. “I’m not joking, Deckard. Come on. We’re both up late anyways, we might as well do something, right?” Deckard sighed, looking at the ginger. He still didn’t understand what his obsession with him was. Why he came with him to the island, why he stayed on the island when it zoomed into space. He just couldn't figure out why he seemed to like him so much, when he had been nothing but mean to him. He smiled, and sighed. “Alright. We can bake something.” He said, as he got a book of recipes down, placing it on the counter as his fellow chef jumped off the counter.

Damian smiled, as he checked the table of contents and jumped to a certain page, “We can make a lemon drizzle cake and use these berries instead of lemons. It could taste pretty nice. And it would be an interesting colour, but for a good reason.” he chuckled. Deckard picked up one of the berries and popped it into his mouth. He bit into it, the flavour entering his mouth. Damian was right. It did taste like lemons, to some degree. It was citrus-like in nature, but unlike the sweet oranges or the sour lemons, it had a bittersweet feel to it, and almost spicy in some way. “These...would work, although they might need more sugar too contrast the weird spice too it…I think?” Deckard asked.

“Bingo. Lets get on with it then, shall we?” Damian smiled. The two of them then got on with it, as in the baking. The cooking prince was definitely leading, but gave Deckard pointers on what he was doing, or how he could change his techniques to make things better. No matter how he said it, though, it was always constructive. It was never condescending, but simply Damian trying to help Deckard. The two got the cake done in around two hours, and as they pulled it out and left it to cool, they were talking and laughing. It was insomnia ridden, of course, but, they seemed to be having fun.


End file.
